


Dance With Me

by FictionAddictions23



Category: One Piece
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Oral Sex, Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9369014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionAddictions23/pseuds/FictionAddictions23
Summary: Sanji and Zoro unexpectedly learn that their bodies move well together in more ways than when they fight side by side. It started with a spontaneous dance, but perhaps there has always been a deeper connection between them.





	

Sanji looked like he was having a great time, and it was starting to piss Zoro off. There was something about the way he was being passed from woman to woman during the island’s festivities that irked the swordsman beyond all reason. He watched the Straw Hat crew’s cook as he danced with the happy civilians, smiling and laughing without a care in the world to the upbeat sound of the band’s performance.

Sanji definitely knew how to dance—his body moved like he was made for it—and Zoro found himself comparing his graceful movements to when they fought one another, noting that the motions weren’t much different at all, just less aggressive. He’d seen the cook dancing and fighting many times, and it never ceased to excite him, but he was so deep in the pit of denial about the reasons why that he sometimes wondered if it was even possible to climb out.

The party was lively, the booze was good, and the company was spirited and accommodating to the pirates who had saved their little village from the group of ruffians who had set up camp in their once peaceful hometown. It hadn’t been a difficult fight, but the citizens had thrown them an enormous block party anyway. Zoro watched from the sidelines, taking large swigs from a flagon of beer with a disinterested countenance that masked his true scrutiny of that damn cook.

Sanji was migrating closer to Zoro now, swapping dance partners with each verse of song and swinging his hips in time with the rhythm. An inexplicable impulse pulled Zoro from his chair as the blond neared him in the crowd. He didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but he cut into the line of dancing women without consciously deciding to, catching the cook’s hand on one of his turns.

Zoro reeled Sanji in, spinning him like he’d seen the other man do a hundred times, and suddenly the two of them were moving in perfect synchronization with only the smallest moment of hesitation from Sanji when he caught sight of his green-haired partner. Zoro’s brain shut off the moment the blond’s fingers closed around his, and then his body simply moved as if he were in a trance, alternating between following and directing Sanji’s motions as they took turns leading the dance.

Sanji was distinctly aware of the abnormality of the situation, but he had grabbed Zoro’s hand and followed through automatically with the required turn before he had fully registered who his new dance partner was. He would've stopped and snapped something rude at the swordsman had his surprise not been so paralyzing—it was less so the fact that he was dancing with _Zoro_ that shocked him than it was the inconceivable notion that the green-haired bastard was actually a _good dancer._

The two men were effortlessly twirling and stepping in harmony with the other’s movements as though they were professional dance partners rather than bitter rivals. It was so well-coordinated that the surrounding party-goers immediately gave them a wide birth to extend the reach of their turns. Sanji had completely tuned out the growing audience, meeting Zoro’s gaze for the first time during a particularly intimate brush of their bodies. They were moving so quickly through the steps that it was almost like they were fighting.

That gave Sanji an idea—he dropped into an abrupt back-bend over Zoro’s arm, hoping to throw him off with the unexpected addition to the routine, but the swordsman wasn’t phased in the slightest. A warm hand gripped the back of his thigh, helping him to complete the flip and recapturing the cook’s hand as he came out of the bend. A grin broke out on their faces in unison, and the dance quickly evolved into a complicated series of handstands and lifts that showed off Sanji’s unique fighting style and Zoro’s incredible strength. The new moves required a fair bit of contact, hands roaming around waists and under thighs as the blond’s lithe figure was wrapped around and over the swordsman’s broader form in impressively artistic contortions of his flexible body.

Zoro spoke for the first time when one of Sanji’s moves landed them face-to-face, skin flushed, sweat beading on their foreheads, and grins yet to fade. “You know that party table kick course thing you do?” he asked breathlessly. Sanji nodded. “Put your hands on my shoulders,” Zoro suggested, his gaze challenging.     

Without missing a beat, Sanji fit his shoe into Zoro’s clasped fingers and sprang lightly above the swordsman’s head. He kept his hands on the man’s wide shoulders, using the momentum to swing his legs up in a handstand and spinning his body in a graceful circle. It should have been difficult to maneuver his hands around a person’s head, but Zoro was like a rock beneath him, solid and unyielding as Sanji supported his own weight throughout the turns.

There was a pause once the spin was completed when Zoro looked up, grasping the cook’s forearms to steady him, and his dark eyes met two crystal-blue ones—the blond fringe that usually covered one side of Sanji’s face was now hanging in such a way that its entirety was visible from the angle below. The swordsman’s surprise must have been conveyed by his widening eyes because Sanji smirked and said, “You’d better not drop me, moss-head,” before tensing his hands to spring off.

Zoro’s reflexes were skilled enough that he was able to catch the other man on his descending twist, spinning him bridal-style with the momentum before releasing him into another acrobatic bend. That became their finishing move as the song came to an end, and they abruptly returned to reality. The sound of the audience’s cheering suddenly overpowered the rush of adrenaline that had been fueling them during their impromptu dance routine, and both men stared at one another from across the short distance in stunned silence.

Sanji was gaping at the swordsman, completely flabbergasted and clearly waiting for some kind of explanation, so Zoro made an awkward gesture to the crowd of dancers and said, “You uh…looked like you were having fun.”

“I—I don’t understand. You’ve always said that you hated dancing, yet you can dance like _that_? What the hell even _was_ that?!”

“I _do_ hate dancing,” Zoro admitted, smirking at Sanji’s total incomprehension at what had just happened. They didn’t have any more time for words once their crew enveloped them with enthusiastic hugs and pats on the back. Sanji still appeared shell-shocked, and Zoro’s face had flushed red in utter embarrassment.

“That was SO COOL!!!!” Luffy shouted, wrapping his rubbery limbs around his first-mate like a particularly clingy monkey.

“I’ve never seen you move like that, Zoro. You were incredible!” Chopper commented in awe.

“You were _both_ incredible, Sanji-kun! Did you practice that beforehand?” Nami asked them excitedly. Her eyes had turned into berries, which meant that she thought their dance skills had the potential to be translated into monetary value.

“Us? Practice? Of course not, Nami-swan! I would never dance with that brute!”

“But you just did, Cook-san,” Robin pointed out with a sly grin.

Sanji flushed and glared at Zoro, silently demanding for him to offer an explanation. Except, the swordsman didn’t have a good excuse and knew that truth would only make the cook even angrier. Instead of joining the conversation, Zoro detached himself from their excitable captain and promptly left the circle of admirers with an offhand remark about finding more booze.

Poor Sanji was left to endure the insensitive remarks of their crew, which ranged from honest praise of the cook and swordsman’s newfound talent from the younger men to brazenly explicit comments from the others about how well the two of them had moved together. It was beyond embarrassing, and the idiot-swordsman had disappeared without so much as a thank you or a taunt; although, the latter seemed more likely since Sanji assumed that the whole thing had been some sort of cruel joke.

“Why the fuck would that asshole pull me into a dance like _that_ unless he was trying to make fun of me?” Sanji grumbled to himself.

He had moved a short distance away from the bustling crowd, waving off the requests that he and Zoro do another dance for the next song and not even noticing the beautiful Robin standing in the shadows a few feet from him. He jumped in surprise when she replied to his mutterings, nearly knocking over the table of refreshments as he spun around to face her.

“I don’t think Swordsman-san meant to offend you,” she commented idly. There was a smile playing at her lips that made Sanji’s skin tingle—she looked like she knew something he didn’t.

“When _isn’t_ he trying to offend me?” the cook argued, though he was careful to keep his tone light since he was talking to a lady. “He’s always trying to make me look stupid! I hate him.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” Robin said serenely.

Sanji wanted to deny it—he really did—but this was Robin-chan, and he couldn’t bring himself to insist that such a lovely creature was wrong. “I know he’s my nakama, but I can still violently dislike him, can’t I?”

She chuckled at his rewording, shaking her head again in dissent. “Perhaps in certain moments you feel that way, but overall, I think you and Zoro are quite infatuated with each other.”

Sanji’s mind blanched. “I…what do you mean by that, Robin-chan?” he asked, mouth going dry.

“Wouldn’t you agree that there’s something…primal that attracts the two of you together whenever you’re fighting—or dancing, as was the case tonight?”

“Of c-course not! Unless you’re referring to our mutual dislike that attracts us. You have the strangest ideas, my sweet, but that makes you all the more interesting,” he complimented her weakly. Robin’s knowing smile was still in place as her eyes bore into him—it was as if she could reach inside Sanji’s heart and soul and take him apart with her gaze.

“Hmm…whatever you say, Cook-san, but the two of you looked quite happy during that dance. Just something to think about,” she told him dismissively. “If you’re wondering where Swordsman-san is, I saw him heading down to the beach with a bottle of whiskey. Perhaps he’ll be in the mood to share.”

With that, she turned and headed back into the throng of happy villagers to join Nami in the lounge chairs. Sanji watched her departure with mingled confusion and anxiety. Her words had really thrown him off; Robin was so perceptive—he didn’t think she would insist that Zoro wasn’t trying to be an asshole unless she was certain, but why else would that green-haired idiot join the festivities, dance with Sanji, and then disappear so suddenly? It was all so strange…and Robin’s comment that Zoro had gone down to the beach was obviously a suggestion that he follow the swordsman and ask him himself.

Sanji decided to do just that—to solve the mystery of course.

Meanwhile, Zoro had set up a one man pity-party at the edge of the beach in an attempt to drown himself in liquor before he drowned himself in the ocean. His spontaneous decision to join Sanji in a dance had been a horrible mistake—those damn thoughts had returned with a vengeance even though he’d spent months carefully meditating them away. He had thought he was finally rid of them, but it turned out that they were just lingering beneath the surface of his denial, waiting to be dragged out and rekindled by one glimpse of the shit-cook’s stupid face. 

Sanji’s entire face…now _that_ had been a novelty to witness. It would have been worth confirming that the blond’s eyebrows were both curly had it not also brought those dangerous thoughts to the forefront of his mind…

Zoro thought the cook was damn beautiful.

He tried not to think it, and he would almost convince himself that he really _did_ hate the bastard when something like this happened, and his iron will crumbled under the weight of his true feelings. It was disgraceful, really. He wanted to be the world’s greatest swordsman, yet he couldn’t even school his emotions long enough to forget about that damn blond.

“Oi! Moss-head!” _Speak of the devil…_ “What the fuck are you doing all the way out here when the party isn’t over? If you stray this far from the crew then you’ll get lost, and we’ll have to spend the whole night trying to find your stupid ass.”

Sanji barked the insults from the top of the hill, causing Zoro’s hackles to raise automatically at the sound of his gravelly voice. To the swordsman’s dismay, the cook was making his way, unhurriedly, down to the beach. He lit a cigarette and joined the other man at the rock that he was using as a table for his liquor bottles.

“What do you want, dartboard-brows?” he asked, revising the nickname to the plural in light of his recent discovery of the cook’s second spiraling eyebrow. “You know I can find my way back to the ship if I need to…eventually.”

“Yeah, well ‘eventually’ is often inconvenient as fuck for the rest of us. Save everyone the trouble and come back with me.”

“No,” Zoro told him with a defiant swig of his liquor. “I’m good here. Leave me alone, and let me enjoy my drink in peace.”

Sanji bristled at that, frowning down at his stupid green head with growing anger. “What, you got a problem with my company all of a sudden? You didn’t seem too opposed to me five fucking minutes ago when we were dancing, which was embarrassing as hell, by the way—not that you stuck around to endure the aftermath,” he grumbled irritably.

“Did they tease you, Cook? Was your precious masculinity wounded in front of the ladies?”

“Fuck you!” Sanji snapped instantly, shoving his foot into Zoro’s back and causing him to spit out a mouthful of whiskey. “I guess that was your plan all along, huh? Make Sanji look like a queer in front of the whole island? Were you just trying to mess with me?”

Zoro’s back stiffened at that, tension coiling in every muscle, but he didn’t turn around even though his hands were shaking with barely concealed rage. “You got me,” he said finally, but his voice sounded lifeless—he muffled it with another enormous swig of alcohol.

Sanji just stared at his back, surprised that Zoro wasn’t rising to his bait like usual. Robin’s insistence that the moss-head didn’t have any malicious intent had caused him to wonder why else Zoro would want to cut into Sanji’s dance. Something had obviously shaken the swordsman enough that even the cook’s clear invitation for a fight was being denied.

“Well, if you _were_ trying to mess with me then it didn’t work,” he told Zoro purposefully, deciding to test him and see if he could drag out what was really bothering the swordsman. “It was actually kind of fun—like when the two of us fight—and the teasing from the crew was halfhearted anyways,” he amended, watching the other man’s back for a reaction. There wasn’t one.

Sanji rethought Robin’s words and tried a different, albeit unlikely, approach. He took another drag from his cigarette to steel himself before casually saying, “Robin said that there’s an attraction between us.”

Now _that_ got a reaction—Zoro jerked in surprise, fingers tightening around the neck of his bottle and knuckles going white. He was so silent that he could’ve been holding his breath. Slowly, the swordsman relaxed his grip to take another drink, muttering, “That woman is a nutjob.”

He was flat on his back a second later as Sanji pinned him to the ground with long legs and a furious glare. “Don’t insult Robin-chan, asshole! I’ll grind you into the sand.”

Zoro’s mouth dropped open at his choice of words, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he quickly looked away from the other man and snapped, “Get the hell off of me!”

He tried to reach for Sanji, meaning to throw him to the side and free himself, but the cook had other ideas. He slid backwards, luring Zoro’s arms toward him so that he could quickly pin those down too, and gripping the green-haired man at the wrists. Sanji’s upper body strength was no match for the swordsman’s, so he shifted forward again and carefully pinned Zoro’s arms in place with his powerful thighs.

“Let my fucking arms go, bastard! I told you to get off!”

“I might if you keep squirming against me like that,” Sanji said without thinking. He could feel the hardening bulge in Zoro’s pants as he bucked against Sanji in a foolish attempt to dislodge him. The motion was creating a pleasant friction against Sanji’s own member, and the dirty pun had slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Their faces were equally scarlet when each of them realized what had been said.

“Y-you…fucking…pervert-cook!” Zoro raged, even managing to yank one of his arms free. He gripped Sanji’s jacket below the collar and dragged him down to meet his furious glare. “I suggest you get the fuck off of me, otherwise my dream of being the greatest swordsman will end tonight because I will goddamn _kill_ you, and then Luffy will have to kill _me_ ,” he growled, nearly burning himself on Sanji’s lit cigarette.

“Why are you so mad, marimo? We fight like this all the time,” Sanji asked innocently. He braced himself above the seething swordsman, removing the cigarette from his lips and snuffing it out in the sand.

“Look, I wasn’t trying to mess with you with that dance, okay? This isn’t fucking funny. Don’t make fun of me just because you assumed that I was trying to make fun of you,” Zoro snapped, shoving Sanji back an inch, but the blond refused to back down.

“That’s not what I’m doing, Zoro. This isn’t a joke,” Sanji told him, and he was honestly telling the truth.

The cook had figured it out—judging by the obvious hard-on in Zoro’s pants, the swordsman was indeed attracted to Sanji as Robin had suggested. Although, he wouldn’t let himself think that such a delicate lady had meant _that_ kind of attraction _._ The most astounding thing was that Sanji realized that he didn’t even mind. In fact, it was kind of hot to discover that his rival—the stoic and self-disciplined swordsman—had been lusting after him the entire time that Sanji had been in utter denial about his own feelings…

He thought that Zoro was sexy as hell, after all.

“I’m serious, shit-cook. Don’t fuck with me right now, or someone’s going to die,” Zoro warned him dangerously, appearing genuinely furious.

“Just _listen_ to me for a minute, you thick-headed idiot! Or if your ears can’t manage it, at least listen with your body,” Sanji told him, pressing himself more firmly against the swordsman. Their erections lined up, rubbing together through the strained fabric of their pants and causing Zoro to make a strangled noise at the motion. He flushed a beautiful shade of scarlet, eyes wide as he finally registered the state of Sanji’s arousal.

“You…you’re—!”

“Yeah, dumbass. Now can I kiss you or not?” Sanji asked impatiently. He was already leaning down, tongue flicking over his lips as he met Zoro’s gaze questioningly. The longing in the blond’s eyes was so unexpected that the swordsman could only sputter a wordless reply, causing Sanji to let out a frustrated growl and catch the other man’s chin in a firm grip. “Look, you aren’t exactly a lovely lady, and yes, I may have you pinned to the ground underneath me, but I’m still a gentleman. That means I’m gonna need some fucking verbal consent, moss-head.”

“Fuck—yes. Just do it already!” Zoro got out. He gasped into the cook’s hot mouth as it descended on his with a vengeance. Sanji slid his hand from Zoro’s chin to the collar of his t-shirt, gripping it tightly and pulling the swordsman bodily from the ground into a seated position so that the blond could straddle him more comfortably. He freed Zoro’s second hand, which quickly joined the other at the cook’s slim waist.

Their lips moved like waves in a storm, parting and crashing in random surges, tongues slipping together in a rough battle for dominance. Zoro saw stars when Sanji started rocking his hips in time with the rhythm of their kisses—pleasure filled his core, gathering behind his navel as blood rushed to his groin. There wasn’t anything left upstairs for coherent brain function. All he could think was _yeees!_

The cook broke their kiss to latch his mouth onto the base of Zoro’s throat instead. He sucked hard enough to draw out bruises on the swordsman’s collarbone, licking the blood-flushed marks while continuing to grind his hips against Zoro's with a steady rythym. Sanji gave himself up to his impulses then—he didn’t hesitate to slip his hands under Zoro’s shirt and slide his palms over the hard, chiseled muscle. Zoro made an indignant noise when Sanji gripped the swordsman’s pectorals as though they were actually a woman’s breasts.

“Hmm…nice tits,” he commented between kisses with a smug little smirk. Zoro shot him a death-glare and retaliated by cupping the blond’s ass cheeks and squeezing them in a rough parody of a caress. He pulled their chests together and began trailing his hands along the length of Sanji’s thighs, kneading the strong muscles that made the cook such a dangerous unarmed opponent. Sanji made a pleased noise in the back of his throat, locking his ankles together behind Zoro’s back to help stabilize them in the sand.

“Fuck, you’ve got legs for days, Cook.”

“I’m damn flexible, too,” Sanji responded with a suggestive roll of his hips. Zoro’s eyes dilated as they captured the blond’s gaze, holding it with a sudden intensity that was no doubt the result of a fresh wave of lust. His hands returned to grip the cook’s hips, fingers digging into the fabric of his dress-shirt as he tugged it out of the other man’s waistband.

“Give me a demonstration, pervert-cook. You should take off this stuffy suit, though—it’ll restrict your movements.”     

“I’d tell you to remove it for me, but I doubt a Neanderthal with moss for brains could manage this many buttons,” Sanji quipped infuriatingly.

Zoro growled and caught the blond by his collar, yanking sharply at the material to pop the first button off. “If you say something like that again, I’ll slice your precious suit off with my katana.”

Sanji echoed Zoro’s growl, his eyes narrowing angrily as they followed the button’s path to where it landed in the sand. “You won’t enjoy the way I handle your private parts if you damage my fucking clothes again,” he responded, though the threat was partly diminished by the blatant arousal in his voice. “If you don’t like my smart mouth, you’d better find another way to shut me up, shitty-swordsman.”

Zoro dove in to do exactly that, fingers threading into blond hair to grip it by the roots and tilt Sanji’s head into a better angle for another heated kiss. The cook continued working Zoro’s dick into a near-painful erection with delicious thrusts of his pelvis, eliciting an actual moan from the green-haired man. The sound reverberated through their lips, prompting the blond to smirk against the swordsman’s panting mouth.

“Getting all hot and bothered, marimo?” Sanji muttered smugly.

“My body temperature is naturally hot, and you always bother me, curly-brows,” he shot back.

“If I’m so bothersome, maybe I’ll just go back to the party and dance with my sweet Nami-san.”

Zoro let out a dangerous growl and abruptly rocked forwards onto his knees, giving Sanji no choice but to lean back against the sand—his legs were still wrapped tightly around the swordsman’s waist, hands gripping Zoro’s broad shoulders as the reversed position placed Zoro on top. The heavier man mirrored Sanji’s hip rolling motion, increasing the pressure between their throbbing cocks and causing the blond to gasp in pleasant surprise.      

“I see that your hidden talent for moving on the dance floor extends to other physical activities,” Sanji told him huskily. He was grudgingly impressed by the confident way in which Zoro worked his body against the cook’s because it was almost as unexpected as the revelation that the muscle-headed sword-freak had actual prowess at dancing. However, Sanji could feel that their current movements were decidedly less refined and were quickly evolving into wild, carnal desire. 

Zoro’s hands were all over him now—he had even proved the cook wrong and unfastened the suit buttons almost as quickly as Sanji could’ve done it himself. Suddenly, the blond was being extricated from his jacket and shirt, and Zoro’s hot mouth was repaying him for the bruises he’d left on the swordsman’s tanned skin. Sanji’s paler complexion marked easily (the love bites would be glaringly obvious afterwards), but he couldn’t find it in himself to care because it just felt so damn good to be touched this way.

If the cook were being honest with himself, a love-sick fool like him didn’t get much of this sort of attention from the ladies unless he paid for it. That was one of the sad realities of being in a notorious pirate crew that was always on the move and in near-constant danger from the horrors of the Grand Line—not to mention the fact that, okay, yeah, Sanji was possibly a little overly emphatic with his flirtations. Unfortunately for the love-cook, most women were actually turned off by such enthusiastic behaviour, though he would never admit this out loud and wasn’t willing to change in that regard.

This was very different; the raw physical attraction that he felt for the swordsman was easy to express sexually because Sanji didn’t feel the same intrinsic desire to please Zoro and overexaggerate the respect he felt for the other man as he did with women—respect was already unspoken between them. Despite all of their differences, and the bickering that resulted from what Sanji had now identified as a mixture of masculine competitiveness and sexual tension, the cook and the swordsman were well-matched in all things physical. They made a good team regardless of whether or not they were fighting an enemy, fighting each other, dancing in front of a cheering crowd, or rutting like sex-crazed animals on a beach.

All of this raced through his mind as Zoro ravished his throat and chest, licking and sucking every inch of the cook’s flushed skin. Sanji was panting embarrassingly loud as feelings flooded his mind with such intensity that the blond groaned and curled his toes into the sand. _Why now?_ he thought dazedly. _Am I actually falling for this idiot, or have I always wanted this?_ he wondered, but more concerningly, _Will I still want it tomorrow?_

“Fuck,” Sanji muttered, screwing his eyes shut as if he could block out the confusion that way. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the emotions that Zoro’s touch was eliciting and struggled to piece together some sort of explanation so that he could ask the other man what this would mean for them. Zoro wasn’t exactly helping his coherency—the swordsman’s lips locked over one of Sanji’s nipples, tongue flicking over the raised bud as he sucked and nipped lightly with his teeth in a way that sent tingling shocks of pain-pleasure through the cook’s system.

As if that weren’t enough of a distraction, Zoro somehow managed to talk while still concentrating on his task, humming lowly in appreciation. “Mmm…you’re pretty tasty, Cook,” he commented, releasing Sanji’s nipple to drag his tongue along the blond’s collarbone and throat, latching onto the sensitive skin beneath his ear.

“What am I, a dessert?” the cook asked sarcastically, but he had completely surrendered to Zoro’s mouth and had no real complaint at the treatment.

He felt the swordsman’s grin against the side of his neck. “A delicious dessert. You’re all creamy skin and honey-colored hair with a hint of smokiness from your cigarettes—spicy personality, too.”

Sanji scoffed and flicked the other man’s ear, causing his three gold earrings to jangle. “All of those flavours together would make an awful dish, idiot-marimo.”

“Bet you could make it taste good,” he replied instantly, capturing the cook’s mouth again. Sanji moaned into it, his pleasure at hearing Zoro’s uncharacteristic praise of his skills as a chef overriding the last shred of resistance he might've held onto because of any lingering doubts.

 _Fuck it,_ he thought recklessly. _Feelings are for mornings—I’ll worry about it then._ Before he could talk himself out of it, Sanji broke their kiss and regarded the swordsman with a lustful gaze. “You’re doing an awful lot of talking for someone who’s still fully dressed. I appreciate the compliments and all, but are we gonna fuck or just make-out like teenagers?”

Zoro’s eyebrows shot up, eyes going wide as he processed the sincerity in the cook’s voice. His lips curled into a sexy smirk, hands roaming to Sanji’s golden happy trail. “Are you serious, Cook? Do you even know how to fuck a man?”

“No, but I’m so hard that my dick’s gonna fall off, so I’m trusting you to take it from here,” Sanji admitted, too horny to even be concerned about the hit to his pride at the moment. He could feel that Zoro was in a similar state, which somehow aroused him even more. The cook didn’t think he could take it much longer—he needed to come, and he wanted to see the ever-so-composed swordsman come apart with him. 

“Damn, Sanji. What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? What happened to you being the ultimate ladies' man?”

“I have no fucking idea, and I honestly don’t want to think about it. Just fuck me until I can’t think at all.”

To the cook’s utter frustration, Zoro seemed hesitant to simply surrender to their lust and let it take control. He paused to seriously consider his response, his brow furrowing in concentration for one painfully long moment before saying, “I don’t know…I could end up hurting you if it’s your first time. This is too fucking weird—are you sure you’re not drunk?”

“Asshole! I can take you, you shitty moss! Just touch me already—distract me so I can stop analyzing why the fuck I even _want_ you to.”

“Fine, jeez! I just don’t want to hear any shit about it later. You’ve been warned, Cook.”

Zoro hovered over the blond’s lean body, finally removing his own shirt to match Sanji’s state of undress. Without further delay, the swordsman made quick work of the other man’s belt, tossing it aside and freeing his flushed cock from the confines of his pants and underwear. He paused to look closely at the cook’s erection, admiring the pale vision that was Sanji’s body in the moonlight.

The way Zoro looked at him made the cook’s stomach somersault and his heartbeat race, perhaps because women tended to look at Sanji with eyes pleading for _his_ admiration, but Zoro’s eyes were different—he looked at Sanji the way the blond had looked at those girls. It was strange to be on the receiving end of that kind of desire, so he couldn’t help but blush at how obvious it was that the swordsman found him attractive.

Sanji returned the look automatically, eyes roaming over every inch of the other man’s perfect body—he couldn’t help it. Zoro was half naked, which wasn’t exactly new since the swordsman worked out practically twenty-four-seven in nothing but a loose pair of pants, but seeing him kneeling over the cook like this in all of his tanned glory was a whole new level of attractiveness. “You’re really beautiful,” he heard himself say.

Zoro blinked and slowly flushed a delicate shade of red, obviously caught off-guard by the unusual compliment. This only added to the loveliness of his skin’s coloring, and Sanji felt a wide smile growing on his face in response.  _I never let myself really_ see _him before,_ he realized. _I suppose I always knew that he was good-looking, but…fuck—he’s painfully gorgeous._      

“You took the words right out of my mouth, curly.”

Without warning, Zoro reached out and swept the cook’s blond fringe aside, exposing his other eye and the second spiraling eyebrow. Sanji stilled instantly, his instincts telling him to knock Zoro’s hand aside and cover that part of his face again, but even the blond’s insecurity was outweighed by the intensity of the other man’s gaze. The swordsman drank in the sight of his entire face with unmistakable awe, tongue flicking over his bottom lip as his lust was rekindled with renewed vigor.

“Shit,” he muttered shakily, dropping the blond’s hair back into place. “I think I could use a distraction, too—before I say something really embarrassing that I can’t take back,” Zoro admitted, ducking his head. The sudden warmth enveloping Sanji’s swollen cock caused him to cry out in surprise and buck into the wet cavern of Zoro’s mouth. All rational thought left his mind, which was exactly the outcome he’d been looking for.

Zoro’s heat was everywhere, setting the cook on fire at each point of contact. His lips created a tight band of warmth around the flushed head of his cock, the velvety skin lining the inside of that glorious mouth seared his twitching shaft as it slid along Sanji’s length, and— _oh God_ —were his hands burning imprints into the cook’s hips as he held the blond firmly in place? It felt so good that Sanji thought he might cry.

“Want me to swallow when you come? I’ll suck out every last drop,” Zoro told him clearly. It was as if the swordsman didn’t even have a dick halfway down his throat— _How the hell does he manage that?!_ Sanji thought, truly impressed (and violently turned on) by the fact. Zoro took in the cook’s full length in one smooth motion until the head bumped into the back of his throat. Instead of choking like the blond expected, he swallowed slowly, causing Sanji to squirm as the muscles clenched and massaged his sensitive cock. An embarrassingly wanton moan ripped its way out as a particularly strong wave of pleasure rocked him. Zoro hummed in response, the sound reverberating along his entire shaft.

“Fucking hell—ah! Sh-shit, Zoro, how are you so g-good at this?” Sanji panted, writhing in the sand as the other man’s mouth reduced him to a stuttering mess.

“It’s because I'm used to putting swords in my mouth,” he quipped, still with perfect clarity. 

It was an incredibly sexy skill. Sanji could feel each word on his cock as Zoro’s mouth moved fluidly around it. He swallowed the entire length again, closing his lips and sucking hard enough to hollow his cheeks. The delicious pressure seemed to go straight to the blond’s balls where his orgasm was building to an unprecedented level—there was no time to warn Zoro when it rapidly reached its peak, come shooting violently into the back of his throat. Sanji practically screamed the other man’s name (among a stream of very creative cussing), his hands flying to knot in Zoro’s hair as he emptied himself into that wonderful heat. The swordsman swallowed every drop exactly as he’d said he would.

Sanji was sweating and trembling as the intense orgasm shook his entire body. It had been a long time since the cook had come like that. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d _ever_ come that hard. The pleasure was so extreme that it was clouding his thoughts, making it impossible to recall if he had. Once the sensations began to ebb, languid bliss spread throughout the blond, and he melted into the beach, grateful that Zoro had thought to lay their clothes under Sanji’s back so that he didn’t collect a sweaty layer of sand. 

He blinked away stars as he came down from the high, hyper-aware of the fact that Zoro was carefully releasing his own erection to relieve the tightness in his pants. Sanji felt his eyes widen as he tried to understand what the sight of a naked, fully-aroused Zoro was doing to him. He didn’t think he had ever seen a more attractive man—perhaps the swordsman didn’t have the most classically beautiful features, or a conventional hair color, but his sharp angles and perfectly toned body added to his rugged good looks, which was certainly appealing to the fighting cook. Zoro was also impressively well-endowed below—a fact that made Sanji understandably nervous about experiencing intimately.

Still, he never backed down from a challenge and had no desire to go back on his decision now that he’d set his mind to it. The thought of being fucked by Zoro was a big enough turn on that Sanji barely had to touch himself to bring his spent erection back to life. It also helped that Zoro, being a man himself, knew just how to touch him with hands that were nearly as skilled as his mouth. It wasn’t long before Sanji's cock was at full attention again and leaking pre-come into the swordsman’s strong hand. Zoro collected it and smeared it over his fingers, bringing them to rest at the cook’s entrance.

Sanji froze when he felt his own stickiness coating the sensitive ring of muscle, but he gave his silent consent by refraining from voicing any complaints. The cook gasped at the strange sensation of a finger slipping inside him with slow, thrusting motions. His mind wanted to reject the foreign intrusion and classify it as unnatural, but he knew logically that he’d been spread much wider by the average shit; this was a confusingly erotic circumstance by contrast, and he was prematurely glad that it was less painful than he’d expected.

When a second finger followed the first, he was less aroused and more focused on the sudden, painful stretch. “Gah!—dammit, I really wish we had lube,” he complained, squirming in discomfort as Zoro’s fingers scissored inside his opening.

“Sorry. It’ll be better next time, I promise.”

“Tch. Someone’s overly confident that there’s gonna be a next time.”

“Just you wait, Cook. We’re only getting started,” he replied with a wicked grin.

His fingers continued thrusting, twisting, and stretching with gentle motions. The pain was slowly beginning to lessen and was soon replaced by an odd sense of tranquility at the repetitive movements. It was almost relaxing to just lie there on the beach while the swordsman dropped wet kisses along his stomach and thighs while fucking him with his fingers. The blond almost didn’t notice the sting of the third intrusion…almost.

“Are you nearly done? I can feel my erection fading faster by the minu— _ah!_ Mmpfh!”

Sanji had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep from crying out at the unexpected sensation that coursed through him when Zoro pressed against a particularly sensitive section of his inner wall. Little shocks of pleasure continued to shake him as the swordsman repeated the action, grinning in triumph at having elicited this response. He started pumping into the cook with a slightly faster pace, spreading his opening as wide as it would go with those three fingers.

Zoro leaned over him, supporting himself with one hand braced beside the cook’s face, and pressed their lips together in a surprisingly gentle kiss. Sanji could taste the saltiness of his own come and shuddered slightly at the thought; it wasn’t that he was disgusted—on the contrary, he was surprisingly aroused by the realization that he actually wanted to taste _more._

He wanted to taste Zoro’s.

“So,” Zoro began, breaking their kiss and staring down into Sanji’s eye, “how opposed are you to putting my dick in your mouth, Cook?”

Sanji let out a short, barking laugh. “Okay, first, that was the most awkward and forced possible way of asking me for a blowjob, and second, does observation Haki allow you to read my mind?”

“That sounds like a yes.”

“I may not know much about sex between men, but since we obviously don’t have any lube, I’ll have to suck you thoroughly if I don’t want this to completely suck for me.”

Zoro mirrored his barking laugh, dragging the blond to his knees and standing in front of him. “Nicely put. Go ahead and wet it good, curly-brows.”

Sanji stared at the cock in front of him with surreal detachment, taking in its blood-flushed appearance, thick veins, and slowly weeping tip. He was a little mesmerized by its girth and darker skin tone because the only dick he'd ever seen so up close and personal was his own, and Zoro’s was so very different. That hardly surprised the cook, what with their contrasting body types and diametrically opposing personalities. 

When he took the swordsman’s length into his mouth and began imitating the movements that had been performed on him, he was reminded by Zoro’s moan of appreciation that they were the same in just as many ways as they were different. The reactions he was drawing from the other man were as equally intense as his own, and it was immensely satisfying to witness the great Roronoa Zoro coming undone by the talented mouth of the ship’s cook. 

“F-fuck, Sanji. You’ve seriously never done this before?” he asked with a pleased groan.

The blond was sucking him mercilessly with random intervals of agonizing slowness and complete abandon. He managed to draw a surprised gasp from Zoro when he drew his tongue deceivingly slowly along the shaft before cupping his lips around the head, attacking the slit with hard strokes of wet muscle, and sucking  _hard_.

Zoro’s fingers slid roughly into the blond locks, pulling Sanji’s mouth off of his cock with an obscene popping sound. He stared down at the cook’s infuriatingly smug smirk with heat-flushed cheeks and a dark, reluctant expression. “You’re supposed to be wetting my dick, not sucking it dry. You’ll end up choking on my come at this rate. Show some restraint, you slut.”

Although the cook could've flown off the handle and kicked in the idiot’s skull for calling him something like that, he recognized that it was an attempt to repudiate his own inferiority, and Sanji was a big enough bastard that he wasn’t going to miss the chance to rub Zoro’s face in it.

“Aww, is the marimo upset because it’s my first time, and I’m already better at it than you are? Don’t feel too bad, shitty swordsman. I’ve always had an…oral fixation.”     

Zoro’s eyebrow twitched, his grip on Sanji’s hair becoming painful, but he just clenched his teeth and thrust into the cook’s waiting mouth with an irritated scowl. “You’re fucking lucky that this filthy mouth is so useful, or I’d kick your ass right here and drown you in the ocean.”

This response somehow sounded sexy to the cook’s ears, which meant that the two of them had entered truly dangerous territory with this encounter; if even death threats from the swordsman had become a turn on then they were going to have a serious problem in the morning. Both men were obviously getting really into this—it wasn’t just two pirates blowing off steam or relieving a bit of sexual tension anymore. Sanji could feel his hunger for the other man growing even while he choked on Zoro’s cock as his mouth was fucked with increasing vigor. The blond tried to make it sloppy, coating every inch of the swordsman’s length with his saliva since he knew that it was about to be shoved _inside him._

Before he could psyche himself out, Sanji pulled back and gave Zoro a meaningful look. The swordsman nodded and moved quickly to kneel in front of the cook again, pulling their bodies flush against one another and attacking his mouth with their fiercest kiss yet. Heat flooded through Sanji’s entire body as the clashing of their lips and tongues intensified until he was literally gasping and panting into the swordsman’s mouth. The added friction between their erections was so deliciously good that it was becoming rather painful. He found himself wondering why they hadn’t had sex sooner—it would have been a welcomed addition to their normal routine of arguing, exchanging witty banter, and fighting like cats and dogs.

“Do you want to be on all fours or lie on your back?” Zoro asked in between ravishing the blond’s flushed torso.

“I uh…I guess…fuck, it doesn’t matter, just choose!”

Sanji was beyond being able to form a coherent thought at this point. His cock ached for more attention, and he already felt like he needed to come again, so he wanted nothing more than for Zoro to fuck him so that he could find his release.

Zoro complied wordlessly, lowering the cook onto his back and trailing insistent hands over his strong thighs. Sanji lifted them and brought his knees to his chest, shoving away the lingering embarrassment he felt at exposing himself so shamelessly to the other man. He only had the sense to care for about 0.5 seconds before the head of Zoro’s cock nudged his entrance, and then all he could think was that this was it—this was really about to happen. _Fuck, just hurry up and do it!_ he thought desperately, gripping his own cock and pumping it lazily. He couldn’t take the neglect anymore, and Zoro certainly wasn’t complaining.

He could feel the swordsman’s eyes on him as the blond touched himself, the dark pupils blown wide with lust as he slowly pushed past the loosened ring of muscle to seat himself inside the cook. Sanji managed not to gasp this time even though he felt a stinging stretch and complete _fullness_ like nothing he’d experienced before. Tears sprang to his eyes at the painful sensation, but he knew that he could easily bear with it until his body adjusted.

“Oh God, you feel so good, Sanji. Don’t move yet—ah! D-don’t flex like that. Shit.”

The blond watched Zoro’s face in fascination as he took the time to adjust to Sanji as well. His cheeks were flushed, sweat beading on his forehead and running down his neck in glistening trails that made his skin shine beautifully. It was a sight to behold to say the least, and Sanji found himself wondering again what had taken them so long to reach this point—no doubt it was because of their stubborn pride, coupled with the fear of rejection and the possibility that their relationship as nakama could be at risk.

“Are you okay, Cook? I won’t move until you tell me to,” Zoro said shakily.

It looked like absolute torture to stay so still when he clearly wanted to slam into the blond over and over again without holding back, but he was even more determined to give Sanji a chance to feel good, too. Any remaining shred of doubt left the cook’s mind at the considerate sentiment, and he nearly gave in to the sudden desire to tell Zoro to go ahead and pound him into the sand, but he knew that he would most certainly regret his impatience in the morning.

“I’m good. Give me a reason to want to do this again...if you think you’re up for it,” he challenged, rocking his hips once.

Zoro grinned and pulled back immediately, gripping the blond by the waist and thrusting back in. He repeated the motion slowly at first, eyes screwed shut as he focused on maintaining a gentle pace. Once Sanji began to feel accustomed to the pain and pressure, he tried to rock his hips in time with the swordsman’s thrusts to let him know that it was okay to move faster. Zoro responded with enthusiasm, thrusting deeper and deeper until Sanji was gasping again and clutching blindly at his broad shoulders.

“F-fuck! Oh God, I…Zoro, please…” he panted, tensing at the sudden pleasure of having his prostate pounded at the perfect angle. Although he didn’t manage to get out the word “harder,” Zoro knew immediately what he was asking for and began to mercilessly slam into him with deep, unrelenting thrusts. Sanji cried out, unable to contain the burst of sound or control the way his back arched beneath the swordsman’s bulk. He could feel his own pre-come dripping onto his abs as his cock brushed periodically against Zoro’s toned stomach. Heat coiled in his gut as his prostate was stimulated again and again until his mind went numb and his vision blurred.

“I need…to come...Make me come, Zoro—mmm—ah!” He had to grit his teeth as the swordsman shifted their position, raising Sanji’s hips as he leaned over him and found his balance with one arm, the other moving between their sweat-slicked bodies to grip the blond’s dripping cock and jerk it as best as he could with the increasingly erratic motion of his thrusts. 

“I’m close, too. Sh-should I…?”

Sanji shook his head, horrified by the thought of Zoro pulling out when this felt so _fucking_ good. He desperately wanted to see the swordsman’s face when he came inside him, which was an irrational thing to want considering how suddenly this had all happened. Sanji had never even thought about the reality of having sex with a man—over time, he had come to realize that he wasn’t necessarily opposed to the idea (with the right person of course), but even in his most private thoughts, when he’d entertained the slight possibility of being intimate with the swordsman who had caught his interest, he hadn’t seriously considered the logistics of it all.

However, in his current state of utter bliss and shameless lust, there was nothing he wanted more in that moment than to feel Zoro’s cock throbbing inside him and filling him with hot come. He smashed their mouths together and moaned into the swordsman as he reached his climax and spilled over Zoro’s hand, coating their stomachs in thick streams that added to the sliding friction of their sweaty bodies. Zoro faltered in pumping Sanji’s twitching cock as he reached his own orgasm seconds later, slamming into the cook one final time and unloading inside him with an unexpectedly vocal moan that sounded a lot like Sanji’s name.

There was a moment afterwards where they clung to each other before the post-orgasm fatigue seeped into their bones and they collapsed in the sand, equally spent. Sanji stared up at the starry sky and worked on gathering his wits as he lay on his back next to Zoro. The swordsman was yawning as if he were about to fall asleep right there on the public beach, regardless of his sticky state of undress.

“Oi, marimo. Don’t you dare fall asleep like that! We need to move our asses before somebody sees us,” he hissed, suddenly very aware of the fact that they had just had sex in _complete view_ of anyone who happened to wander away from the party and look down over the hill.

“Don’t be such a buzzkill, Cook. Somebody probably already saw—no doubt attracted here by all the noise you were making. Give me a second to catch my breath, will you?”

Sanji kicked him in the side, instantly regretting the action when a sharp pain flared up his spine. “Goddammit! That’s gonna fucking sting tomorrow. Never again. ‘Wetter is better’,” he lamented, shifting in a futile attempt to find a more comfortable position. Zoro reached over and rolled the blond towards him, plucking his t-shirt from where it had stuck to Sanji’s back and draping it lazily over their waists. He ignored the cook’s indignant flailing and hiss of annoyance at being manhandled and dragged the blond onto his chest, idly rubbing circles into the base of his spine.

Sanji melted against him, too grateful for the welcomed massage to complain about the fact that a single crumpled t-shirt would not preserve their dignity should somebody spot them on the beach. “You don’t really think we were seen, do you?” he asked, flushing in embarrassment at the thought of someone accidentally witnessing such an indecent display.

Zoro shrugged and let out another yawn, seeming completely unconcerned. “I don’t know, but I doubt anyone will be surprised after our intimate dance performance.”

“I hope Robin-chan is the only one who sensed the sexual tension. What am I going to do if all the beautiful ladies on the island think that I’m unavailable because of you, moss-head?”

Zoro growled and instantly stopped massaging Sanji’s lower back. “Just go back to fawning all over them like you usually do—see if I care,” he muttered darkly.

Sanji laughed and propped himself up in his elbows to look down at the swordsman’s intense scowl. “So we fuck one time, and suddenly you think you can be all possessive and shit? Not likely, asshole. I will always give women the love and care they deserve, and nothing’s going to stop me from treating them with the utmost respect.”

Zoro rolled Sanji off of him and reached for his discarded pants, yanking them on in silence. The blond redressed as quickly as he could so he could follow the swordsman back up the hill towards the distant sound of music and merriment.

“Hey, there’s no need to be so grumpy. That was fun,” he said casually, watching in mild amusement at how the swordsman’s muscles tensed.

An angry crease had formed on Zoro’s brow when he turned to stoically reply, “Yeah. Thanks.”

“If you’re pissed about what I said before then you should know that I’m not going to sleep with any of those women. As crazy as this might sound coming from me, I think that you’d be more than enough…if you’ll have me.”

Zoro froze in his stride and shot him a suspicious, borderline incredulous look. “Seriously? The insufferable ladies' man is gonna give up women for the shitty-swordsman?” he asked bitterly, resuming his walk and pausing at the top of the hill to wait for the cook to catch up. Sanji dug into his suit pocket for his cigarettes and lighter as he walked to meet him, popping one between his lips and lighting it quickly. He sucked in a long breath of calming nicotine in preparation for what he was about to say, blowing the smoke off to the side and facing the swordsman with his free hand shoved in his pant pocket.

“I’m not going to pretend this didn’t happen, Zoro. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. It was…I’ve never experienced anything like it. There’s no way a woman can give me that, not to mention be my sparring partner and tolerate my insults the way you do. I’ll never be able to have that kind of rough and honest relationship with a woman. It’s actually kind of messed up that it took you fucking my brains out for me to realize it, but it’s almost painfully obvious now that I have.”

Zoro just started at him with wide eyes, not even the least bit inclined to interrupt for once. “We’re pirates—life is short and all that jazz. I can’t realistically see myself settling down with some girl and having a bunch of kids like I used to fantasize about when I was younger. I want a life of adventure—I want to find the All Blue, and I know that you’ll be there when I do. Hell, I’ll probably be there to see you surpass Mihawk or die trying, so…is it totally crazy to think that this could work because we’re both equally stubborn bastards chasing insane dreams?”

“Y—you…you really mean it,” Zoro realized, meeting Sanji’s gaze without any hesitation now. “I don’t think that sounds crazy at all. I thought _I_ was the crazy one for thinking that two people as different as us could be what’s best for each other...It sounds so stupid—saying that out loud like I’m in love with you or something,” he muttered awkwardly.

Sanji smirked around his cigarette, removing it so that he could bring his lips closer to the swordsman’s. “Try not to fall for me too hard. People with dreams like ours tend to die young, and I wouldn’t want you to miss me _too_ badly,” he said mockingly.

“Tch. Now who’s the overconfident one? Who says I’d miss your annoying ass at all?”

“Oh really?” Sanji asked slyly. He pressed himself firmly against the swordsman, letting his cigarette fall to the ground and be forgotten. They shared a quick, heated kiss that settled the matter entirely. This wasn’t going to be a onetime thing—neither of them were the type of man who could give up on something they really wanted.

“I guess I might miss your cooking,” Zoro conceded with a smirk.

“I _knew_ it! You love my cooking even if you’re always shit-talking it,” Sanji teased. “I think you’ve earned something to eat after that vigorous workout. Why don’t we head back to the ship and take a nice long shower? I’ll make us something to eat after, and then…”

“And then what?” Zoro asked eagerly, catching onto Sanji’s implication of the sort of activities a long shower entailed—he was fully prepared to take the blond up on that offer.

“If you aren’t too exhausted, we can rejoin the party,” he suggested.

Zoro drew Sanji closer, pretending to think it over as he held the blond in a firm embrace. “Alright, Cook…but only if you dance with me.”

“Deal.”


End file.
